


The Vampire and The Devil

by nahman



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Episode: s01e10 Nelson v. Murdock, Halloween, Introspection, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oblivious, Vampires, and they were ROOMMATES
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27278422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nahman/pseuds/nahman
Summary: There’s something wrong with Matt Murdock’s roommate. He’d noticed it before he even stepped into their dorm. There was no heartbeat to be heard. No breath either even though he knew he could hear a young manor the one in which Foggy is a vampire and Matt is, well, Matt
Relationships: Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 103





	1. Chapter 1

There’s something wrong with Matt Murdock’s roommate. He’d noticed it before he even stepped into their dorm. There was no heartbeat to be heard. No breath either even though he knew he could hear a young man, presumably his roommate, typing on his keyboard and mumbling encouragement to his computer (as well as cursing at it to hurry up). There was someone in there, of course there was. He could hear them, but things were missing. No swallowing spit, no blood rushing, just the sound of denim rubbing as the man bounced his knee and a computer motor running. Matt stood in front of their dorm door, straining his ears, but he couldn’t find the elements he’d become so used to hearing. It threw him off, made him deeply uncomfortable, another sense of blindness. He comforted himself with the thought that maybe he was tired, it was a new place, and while he’d been used to communal living, law school was a whole separate story than the orphanage. Overstimulation, that’s it. And so Matt bucked up, smiled, and walked in with his most innocent face.

“Excuse me, is this room 312?” Matt asked with just the right amount of awkwardness even though he  _ knew  _ he was in the right place. The little plaque outside the room had brail, not that his roommate probably would’ve known. 

‘Yeah, who’re you looking for?” The air shifted as his roommate turned to look back, the image became clearer. The man was a little heavier, muscle under the soft but quite a bit of soft. His hair brushed past his shoulder, creating a whoosh sound. No heat signal either. “Oh, uh sorry.” 

“What for?” Matt tilted his head and twiddled his cane a bit.

“You’re blind, right?”

“That’s what they tell me.” A beat. ”I hope that won’t be a problem”

“Why would it be?” The man’s voice was filled with confusion, the cogs slowly turning before he exclaimed, “Oh! You’re my roomie!”

“Matt Murdock.” Matt says, laying his duffel bag down so he’s free to offer his hand. His roommate jumps up and lets out a little laugh.

“Foggy Nelson.” His hand is cool and his shake is firm and friendly. His voice is still bright and warm from the laughter sneaking in it. 

“Foggy?” Matt says after a second of taking everything in. The name bounces off his tongue, not harsh but not too soft that it slides out without any resistance. It’s a good name to say but unusual.

“I have an  _ extremely _ sunny disposition. It just kind of stuck. Plus, I was never much of a Franklin anyway.” Foggy’s nose scrunches up in disgust but it's all in jest and through a smile. He says it like it’s a joke and Matt is in on it. It makes a smile decorate Matt’s face as well, small and sweet.

* * *

It’s weird to sleep in the same room. Matt doesn’t know if Foggy sleeps; he lies there completely still, when he thinks Matt’s drifting to sleep. And it does help Matt sleep sometimes, the fact that there’s no breathing or snoring, no slurring heartbeat, no movement in close proximity. Sometimes it does the opposite, and Matt can’t stop thinking about it. And then, when Foggy thinks Matt is deep in sleep, he’ll get up and do all sorts of activities. He’ll creep out and go for walks or pick up the dorm room or watch movies through shitty headphones on his computer. He’s always very careful to not wake Matt up. Whatever Foggy is, he’s considerate.

Matt’s hesitancy and aloofness is broken down by Foggy's consistent abundance of good humor, consideration, and warmth. He listens Matt out and seamlessly integrates him into his own life with ease. He’s obvious at times like when he invites Matt to study groups or brings back food from his trips home. Sometimes he’s more subtle like when Matt offhandedly mentions the lack of accommodations and coincidentally his professors remember to help him out the next week, it’s only when he’s telling Foggy he realizes Foggy put it into action. Sometimes it feels like charity and he wonders how fucked up he is that genuine kindness makes him uncomfortable. Sometimes it makes him warm and he thinks he can get used to it. But he’s never numb to it or indifferent. Even months into living together, months of friendship, when it becomes the regular and routine, it makes Matt stop and  _ feel _ . It makes Matt want to be a better man, not in the sense of morality or faith, but as a friend.

And Matt tries to adapt, to having a friend. He isn’t used to it, to having someone care so much for him and someone to care for. It takes practice. Foggy is kind and patient and seems to understand the effort. When Matt stumbles around questions, Foggy doesn’t mock him but answers and inquires. When Matt offers to help with Foggy’s debates unprompted, Foggy accepts readily and eagerly. He tries to show how appreciative of Foggy in the little ways and Foggy gets it. But in some ways, Matt feels he fails. He doesn’t like to go to parties with Foggy and he can’t stand some of Foggy’s friends. But what really bugs him is Foggy has a secret and it bothers Matt more than he’d like. Matt has his own secrets after all, it’s hypocritical. He can’t help it, the conflicting emotions.

* * *

“What are you going to be for Halloween?” Foggy asks, chewing on his pen in mid-October, he’s supposed to be studying but Foggy hasn’t been focusing on his homework for half an hour. Even though Matt can’t hear his heartbeat or breathing, he can tell. 

“Aren’t we a bit old for dress up?” Matt says wryly, hands pausing on his textbook. In all honesty, Matt hasn’t really dressed up since before the accident. Halloween seemed like something other kids get, not blind Catholic orphans, not Matt. Because that, Halloween seems so far away, so silly, so odd, a childlike memory from a whole other life.

“Too old?” Foggy sounds downright scandalized, letting the pen drop from his mouth. “Nonsense.”

“I don’t know, Fog. What would I even go as?” His words come out more teasing than exhausted, only feeding Foggy’s energy.

“How ‘bout a devil?” Foggy asks with good humor, a smile in his voice.

“The devil?” It’s Matts turn to sound faux scandalized. 

“I said  _ a _ devil not  _ the _ devil. Plus Matt, you’d make a rather dashing devil. I just know it. Reds your color after all.” He says it like it’s so obvious. Matt didn’t even know he had a color. It makes him smile, open and honestly now.

“And what will you be? An angel?” 

“What? No way. I’m going to be a vampire.” 

A vampire. That, Matt thinks, might just be something. But what can he say to that? It’s a crazy thought after all. Not as crazy as Foggy’s lack of biological life. He tries to think of something to say, something casual, but he can’t. So he just huffs out a laugh.

* * *

Matt does go as a devil. He lets Foggy dress him up in red, low quality horns, and a pitchfork. From other peoples heartbeats, he can tell Foggy wasn’t lying-- red does seem to be his color. He notes that in the back of his mind.

Foggy stays by his side like he’s prone to do when they go out. His dramatic cape swishes and the fake fangs make his speech a bit funny. They don’t even talk to other people that much. Matt doesn’t know why they go out. He supposes he could choose not to, but Foggy invited him. Plus Foggy might go anyway, something he’s done a few times after a rebuffed invitation. And, well, Matt likes being around Foggy. So here he is, in some cheap overcrowded apartment, leaning against a counter, talking to Foggy about why the superior fruit are limes. Foggy is pretending to gag at the thought when they’re interrupted.

“Oh! Matt! I haven’t seen you here before.” Matt vaguely recognizes the voice from an immigration law class but not enough to accurately place it to a name. Whoever it is has decided to come close, he’s taller than both Matt and Foggy, a spindly fellow flushed with heat. An invading presence. 

“I haven’t seen you ever.” Matt says bluntly, tipsy enough to not filter himself correctly, tipsy enough to not hide his annoyance at being interrupted. He really hates parties. He hears Foggy stifle a laugh as he slides to his side rather than stand across from him. He secretly preens at making Foggy laugh.

“I-I’m sorry, that must’ve been really insensitive. I just meant, y’know.”

Matt arches a brow rather than answer and they all stand in awkward silence for a few seconds before Foggy supplies the conversation. “I’m Count Nelson,” he says in his most Draculan voice, “Voo are you?” It makes Matt smile. It makes the other man grimace. Matt decides he does not like the other man.

“I’m Hayden, Matt and I have a class together.” The classmate, Hayden, says blandly, a tone saying  _ butt out.  _ It makes Matt grit his teeth. Hayden continues on but the words hardly matter although Foggy seems to be listening.

“I’ve got a headache.” Matt interrupts a little meaner than he planned to be. But there’s no point in sitting around. Foggy makes a sympathetic noise and grabs his arm.

“You heard the man, Hayden. But it was nice to meet you.”

They leave, arm in arm. Foggy is cold but Matt feels warm.

* * *

Foggy smells like blood. He always has. It’s a constant linger. The smell of dried blood, like he’d just had a bloody nose or stained his clothes and it hadn’t washed out properly. It’s faint but ever present, blurs with his citrus detergent and the musk of weed. He never bleeds though. Matt knows it’s because he doesn’t have any blood. It’s better not to think about it. Denial, avoidance- they’re sweet. Foggy is too. It’s good of him to not think about that as well. It’s good for him to not name what he feels when he hears Foggy laughs or how he feels when Foggy skulks in at two in the morning smelling like Marci. It’s good for him to call him his best friend because he means that and that’s true but it’s not all there is.

* * *

Elektra hates Foggy. Hates him unnaturally, cruelly. Foggy dodges her, smiles through the straight out insults. Elektra is the opposite of Foggy, so it makes sense in its own way. She’s mean and cool and warm to touch, she’s rich and haughty and her laugh is not dissimilar to how glass sounds breaking. She’s thrilling to the point that she sometimes scares Matt, she makes him feel like the world is dog eat dog and about conquering. She hates Foggy, but she loves Matt.

And how nice it is, to be touched by someone you love and who loves you. To not have your heart broken every time you think about them. Elektra is here and present in his arms. She is sharp and leaves him bruised but there, attainable, nonetheless. She is not a welcoming home but she is like the home he had growing up, distant. She’s the feeling of pure adrenaline. Lightning. Stolen cars. It’s exhausting. It is love.

Like lightning, she’s gone too soon. It wasn’t meant to be sustainable. She didn’t love him. She loved who she thought he could be. But he can’t change who he is just like she couldn’t change herself. She leaves and Foggy wraps his arms around him and offers to clean his knuckles. 

* * *

Matt doesn’t tell Foggy about his senses. Foggy doesn’t tell Matt about whatever it exactly is. Matt doesn’t tell Foggy his feelings; Foggy doesn’t hint at anything either. They play the roles they’d established: avocados, best friends, their person to rely on. It’s enough. It’s enough, Matt thinks to himself as he aches at night, not thinking about what exactly he feels. This is more than enough. He’d never deserved Foggy to begin with, his greed for more is a sin that’ll tear him apart and ruin everything, so this has to be enough. Even when the years go by. It’s enough. Isn’t it?

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nelson vs Murdock   
>  \+ more confessions than usual

Foggy knows what to expect before he walks in. But he walks in because he has to, that’s his role to play. Matt’s bleeding everywhere, knocked out from the sound of it. Foggy’s never been luckier to have fed before because it smells overwhelming. Not the smudge of Matt’s blood on his knuckles or a bloody lip, but oozing into the rug kind of bleeding. It makes Foggy want to yell. He doesn’t. He does whimper but nobody but him will ever know that. If nobody else knows, it might as well be myth.

Matt tries to punch him. Matt hands him a burner phone. Matt lays on the ground. He didn’t even have to take Daredevil’s mask off. Of course it’s Matt. Foggy’s known since it began. Matt loves violence more than he loves anything else, it’s why Matt gravitates towards women like Elektra and Karen. Matt loves violence beyond anything, Foggy imagines it has something to with internalizing lessons about martyrdom or something like that. It doesn’t really matter. Foggy’s always known. But Matt had, for the most part, been able to take care of himself, not bleed out on a couch.

Loving Matt is a different type of self-destruction, it’s a heart that destroys itself on purpose. Foggy’s mad at himself for allowing this, for choosing this, to love Matt Murdock. For loving him wholeheartedly even when he knew all the bad it was going to bring. Foggy inhales, the blood makes him nauseous. Claire tells him he can wait outside. She thinks it makes him nauseous for the wrong reason. It’s the only funny thing about this situation. 

Matt wakes up and he has to smell Foggy to realize he’s there. It’s hard to do, he’s still disorientated. Foggy is still as a statue. 

“How’re you feeling?” Foggy asks once he’s given Matt a moment to wake up. Foggy had hoped he’d sound a little cooler but his voice comes out filled with concern. 

“F-Foggy?” His voice shakes. Foggy knows why. Because Foggy knows his dirty little secret. 

“Yeah, it’s me, Matty.” Foggy says it, trying to be soft and comforting. It makes Matt cry. Salty tears, a crumpled up face. “Hey, hey, don’t cry. It’s okay.” This seems to make Matt cry harder, his breathing harsh and pained.

“No it’s not.” Matt gets out through near sobs. 

“Matt, it’s fine, I know. I’ve always known.” Foggy walks slowly to the couch where Matt is spiraling into a panic attack, careful as to not startle or overwhelm Matt. Matt turns to him. His breathing is still heavy but it’s not getting more frequent so that means something.

“You what?”

“I knew and I chose to be your friend anyway, Matt. It’s okay.” Matt can’t stop crying and Foggy feels his heart breaking. What more is there he could do? He has to let Matt process it, there’s nothing else he can do. 

“And you didn’t tell me?” That wasn’t what Foggy had been expecting. He doesn’t know what he was expecting. In all honesty he had always just blurred over the thought, pushing it off for future Foggy to deal with. But he wasn’t expecting this.

“Like you’re one to talk.” He replies, all too sharply, all suddenly on the defense. He regrets his tone seconds after the words come out, but it is honest too. Matt can’t be mad. They’re in the same position. He’d be a hypocrite.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Matt asks after a few seconds, his face flushes from the crying, breath still a bit too heavy but now his face is scrunched up.

“C’mon, Matt, you know. You’ve always known.”

“No, I don’t think I do.” Matt picks his words carefully, a real lawyer, it makes Foggy snort and roll his eyes. Matt knows. He knows he knows. 

“I didn’t tell you for the same reason you didn’t tell me, Matt.”  _ Because we were scared, because we wanted to pretend we were normal, because it had been years and we’d had established our roles _ . He doesn’t say any of that though. No point in putting the obvious into words. 

“So you can hear my heartbeat?” Matt asks after quiet confessions. The sun is starting to crawl into the sky, the city is waking up, but all Matt can focus on is Foggy who has resumed lounging in the chair. 

“Well, yeah, comes with the territory.” Foggy replies a little nervously, he’s aware how invading it is. But if anyone is going to understand, it’s Matt. They have the same gifts-- although for different reasons. Still it’s obvious by the way Matt’s processing everything Foggy’s said that he hadn’t solved the mystery of what Foggy is. 

“So you knew?”

“I thought we’d already covered this? Of course, I knew, Matt. I’ve followed you like fifteen times.”

“No, not that, I’m not talking about that.” Now it’s Foggy’s turn to be confused, his own brows furrowing. He thinks about what Matt could be talking about but can’t pinpoint what it is he’s supposed to have known.

“What are you talking about?” Matt’s heart speeds and he sounds like he might have another panic attack, it’s too early to tell for sure though. It takes Matt a few moments.

“My feelings,” Not a question. But Foggy still feels lost, he’s not sure what they’re talking about. Matt’s feelings? About what? Or who?

“Buddy, I’ve got no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Fog,” He lets his name fall from his mouth. He’s said it a million times. It’s a comfortable thing for him to say, natural. “Fog, I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since first year.” These words rush out of his mouth, like it’s a secret he couldn’t get out fast enough, falling out clumsily like they were too large for his mouth hold. His face is so open and vulnerable. Foggy wants to remember this moment forever.

“Oh.” Foggy says eloquently, too focused on looking at Matt, how the light hits him, on how it feels like a sun is blossoming in his chest, how the words sounded. Matt smiles a bit, warily and a little rough.

“Oh?”

“Oh, Matt,” He sighs out, voice filled with fondness “I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you since the day I met you.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> happy halloween,   
> I had this idea in my head but it didn't turn out like I wanted it to and I kept overthinking it so here it is :)


End file.
